


Normal

by Isoldmysoulforcocoa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Death, Depression, Grief/Mourning, I'm Sorry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isoldmysoulforcocoa/pseuds/Isoldmysoulforcocoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had become depressed said his therapists. He had no motivation to do anything, except visit the cemetery and sit there for hours at a time until the cemetery's caretaker would softly ask him to leave as it was getting dark and that he looked very cold and tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Normal

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for Bokuaka and an even bigger sucker for angst. 
> 
> Basically I was scrolling through my au tag and I saw this one and I said I would write it eventually and since I haven't written in a while I thought that the time was now. This is part one of my 700 words series, which as you can probably infer, is 700 words per story. Go ahead and shoot me an ask at i-sold-my-soul-for-cocoa.tumblr.com and request anything you'd like. *cough cough I like angst cough cough*

Outside the weather was sunny. Inside he was a whirlwind of anger and sadness. There he stood, at the gravestone of his best friend. He fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands and cried. He cried out for the gods to change their mind, to bring his best friend back to life. All he wanted was to see his face again. He wanted to hug him and tell him all the things he wished that he could’ve. He wanted to apologize for making him mad sometimes, and wanted to thank him for staying by his side all these years. He wanted to tell him that this was all his fault. That it had been his fault that he had died and that they would never see each other again. He wanted to tell him that he could’ve done more. Could’ve been there one more day to encourage him to keep living for the both of them. He wanted to hear his voice comfort him as he lay in the sterile, colorless environment. He couldn’t sleep at night anymore, for he was plagued with the sound of the heart rate monitors beeps, and then the inevitable sound of his best friend’s heart failing. He would wake up in cold sweats and cry once more.   
“It’s my fault! It’s all my fault! I’m so sorry! Please forgive me! I’m so so sorry!” would often be heard throughout his now unkempt house at early hours. His life had fallen to pieces after the death of his friend. He had become depressed said his therapists. He had no motivation to do anything, except visit the cemetery and sit there for hours at a time until the cemetery's caretaker would softly ask him to leave as it was getting dark and that he looked very cold and tired. He would have to have his other friends check in on him on occasion to make sure he had not gotten himself into a crisis situation. They did his chores for him, and tried to get him to go outside or go out for lunch. Anything that involved the outdoors or social interaction. Nothing seemed to work for the depressed man. As he cried, he felt a breeze pass through the air. The coolness engulfed him in a frosty embrace. He let the sharp sensation calm him. He cried softly, knelt as the tombstone.   
“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault,” he whispered to the stone, eyes closed. “I wish for you to be back with me every day. I miss you so much.” 

Ghostly hands wrapped around him, and a head pressed against the nape of his neck. For even though he was dead, he felt every bit of pain his friend was feeling at this moment. He had fought his hardest against his illness. He had fought to stay alive for the two of them. He had fought to bring back the smile on his friend’s face. He knew he was dying, and he never wanted his friend to know. He knew that if he had known he was dying that he would have had to fake an attitude and pretend everything was alright, and he did not want to see that. He unconsciously began to stroke the fallen man’s back, despite him not being able to feel it. He wanted to tell him that it was never his fault. He wanted to scoff at him and tell him that he needed to get his life back together and become the man he once knew. When he would come to visit his grave he would watch in anguish as he would sit there for hours and cry. He wished with all his might to be alive once more and in his presence to comfort him and wipe his tears and say everything would be alright. He wanted their lives to be back to normal and do all the things they had once done together. To wake up together, make breakfast together, to play sports together, but now they could never do those things ever again.   
“It was never your fault Bokuto, I’m sorry I made you feel this way,” Akaashi whispered.


End file.
